Crimson Morning
by Nightshade Woe
Summary: As Kratos comes to a troubling realization, he knows what he must do. He meets a young lady, and Kratos is sure his heart is stolen.
1. Chapter 1: The Escape

**Disclaimer: **NAMCO Tales Studio, Ltd. holds the exclusive rights to all characters and story elements appearing in the video game Tales of Symphonia. The following story has been created for entertainment purposes only, and no profit has been made by the author.

Thanks to koinekid for letting me use his disclaimer.

**PLEASE READ!!!!!!!------**This is a Kratos x Anna fanfic. I know this topic has probably been done to death, but I decided to do it anyway. Some things may change from the game, so don't freak out. If any of the things that happen are reminiscent of another fanfic, I did not do it on purpose. It was completely by chance. I promise.

Also, feel free to post and discuss this. Well, enjoy!

Crimson Morning

Chapter 1: The Escape

Kratos strode angrily down the halls of Welgaia, flames in his eyes. Others took one glance at him and fearfully backed against the wall. They knew not to bother Lord Kratos when he was angry.

"Lord" Kratos. He hated that title. He hated that he was a "lord" in an organization that sacrificed innocent human lives to follow a now twisted dream.

He used to believe in that dream. He remembered Mithos back then. He was a young boy, full of love, full of hope, and full of ideas. He was full of love for his sister, Martel. Martel. How beautiful was she? She possessed a timeless grace and beauty. He remembered how Yuan fell for that beauty. He remembered being talked into sneaking up on them with Mithos, and seeing them talking to each other, holding hands, kissing.

Yuan. His friend. They had always been there for each other. Always. But in recent times they had begun to float apart. Yuan always seemed to be gone on some errand for Mithos, and when he wasn't, he was reclusive, hardly ever leaving his quarters.

When the war broke out, the war between Sylvarant and Tethe'alla, the whole group grieved. Three fourths of the group being half-elves, the group hated meaningless fighting, and opposed racism with all their hearts.

Mithos had always said: "I want to end the world of racism and meaningless violence." Now was the time to put their gald where their mouth was. Kratos remembered all the dank, cold dungeons. Kratos remembered all the fights against the summon spirits. He remembered the final triumphant moment when they at last required the Eternal Sword. They had done it. They ended the war by splitting the world in half. They were heroes.

Until the day that Martel was killed.

The day was bright. They were walking by an overhang, not a care in the world. Then the bandits attacked. They were more than a match for the bandits, so Kratos and his group prepared for battle with smiles on their faces, intending to give the bandits a beating, and send them on their way. They were overconfident. Kratos and Yuan went for the two swordsmen, expecting Mithos to go for the archer. He didn't. He had closed his eyes in his spell casting, and he set loose for the left swordsman, not seeing Yuan. Yuan had jumped back to avoid the fireball. That's when they heard the twang. Then silence.

Deathly silence.

Mithos opened his eyes to find his sister lying on the ground with an arrow in her breast, her blood pooling in the dirt. Kratos remembered Mithos' cry. It was utterly horrible. The cry _was_ grief.

"No! No! Martel! No!" Mithos, screamed. He fell to her side, and held her tight, tears spilling from his eyes, a look of pure horror on his face. Kratos turned to Yuan. That same emotion was on his face, then flickered to shock, then to rage.

Gone were the thoughts of letting the bandits get away. They slaughtered the rest of the group without remorse.

Tears now mixing with the flames in his eyes, Kratos entered his simple, private chambers. They had the same pattern on the walls as the hall, as everything else in the city. Rage overtook him.

"Dammit!" Kratos screamed, and punched the wall.

Everything had fallen apart after Martel's death. Mithos used the Eternal Sword to create the current system of life. He erased people's memories, only leaving a few relics from the war. He created the "chosen" system. He killed innocent people to try to bring Martel back to life. Out of love for Mithos, and partly for the hope that it would work, he had gone along with this plan, playing a major role in it.

Now though, with 4,000 years of experience behind him, this system went against Kratos' invisible code of morals. It was not what Martel would have wanted. The whole thing defiled her memory. Kratos sank to the ground, his head in his hands. He sobbed quietly for himself, for Martel, and for the world.

Mithos had just invited him to his elaborate chambers. For an hour, Mithos ranted on his dream, Martel's resurrection, and his "glorious" plans for the future. Kratos had disagreed. He had told Mithos that this might not be the correct path. For that, Kratos was magically thrown across the room. Mithos proceeded to scream in his face until Kratos angrily left the room.

Kratos suddenly looked up from his hands. He knew what he must do. He must leave. He couldn't take it anymore, he must get away. With sudden vigor, he grabbed Flamberge, and strapped it to his belt. He then quickly looked for anything he may need. Seeing a flask of miracle gel he had bought, he picked it up and attached it to his belt. Turning to his mirror, he looked himself over.

He cut a clean figure in his white and blue clothing. He loved these clothes. They fit perfectly to his body, allowing him to move more freely. But he hated them as well, for they stood for Cruxis. The twisted organization that killed innocent people, the organization he belonged to. His clean-cut figure was offset by his unruly, seemingly spiky red hair. A maroon cruxis crystal was attached to his chest, and at his belt was his beloved sword, Flamberge. Mithos had used the eternal sword to make it for him. He had never done anything evil with this sword. Whenever he went down to watch over the chosen, he left it in his chambers and brought another, plain looking, double-edged sword.

Stepping out on his balcony, he stared at the rippling, purple edge of Derris Kharlan with contempt. These walls had kept him in since Mithos had created this place. No more. Willing his wings to him, he dived off the balcony, quickly pulled off a spinning loop and sped towards the portal that led to the Tower of Salvation. Having warped, he opened the door and sped off to the skies of Sylvarant, to freedom.

---This story is the property of Nightshade Woe. Please PM me if you want to use it for anything---


	2. Chapter 2: Midnight Flame

Chapter 2: Midnight Flame

With the wind in his face and sun shining in the sky, Kratos was happy. The pure freedom and exuberance of the flight enlightened him. With endless vigor, he sped across Sylvarant with a smile on his face.

Soon, he began to slowly skim the trees, looking for a place to rest. To the east of a clearing he found a shaded spot with a huge bed of moss next to a sparkling stream. Kratos willed away his wings, and walked to his spot. Closing his eyes, he used his cruxis crystal to spread his senses out, to patrol the whole area in an instant. He sensed the millions of insects, a few small woodland creatures, but that was it.

Satisfied, Kratos lied down upon the moss bed and closed his eyes, listening to the soft mumble of the stream, and fell into the relaxing sub-conscious that was the closest he ever got to sleep.

Sometime later, he heard the sharp crack of a twig snapping. Very slowly he opened his eyes. To the right of him, two figures dressed in black approached, trying clumsily not to make noise. To the left, two more figures approached with the same kind of light tiptoeing that aimed for stealth.

The figures continued to tiptoe up to Kratos until they were about two feet from him. Kratos heard the soft hiss of swords being drawn from their sheaths. Suddenly, with inhuman speed, Kratos sat up into a crouch, and then vaulted over the left group. Having drawn Flamberge in the air, Kratos launched a quick, two-handed strike that slapped over both the bandits backs. The hard slap with flat of his blade set the two bandits reeling forward into their companions.

Kratos watched the bandits trying to get up, untangling various body parts from each other. Thinking quickly, he put a confident smile on his face, aiming to dishearten the ragged bunch. When the bandits finally sorted themselves out, they stood facing Kratos, looks of hate on their faces.

"Come, do you still really wish to fight me?" Kratos called out.

"Bring it on!" a bandit yelled. He was the smallest, and probably the youngest of the group. Seeing that his companions did not exert as much confidence as he did, the young bandit swore, picked up a sword, and quickly rushed Kratos with a swift overhead chop.

But it was not swift enough.

Kratos brought up Flamberge and flicked the blade upward. The perfectly timed jolt sent the bandit's blade out wide, leaving a huge opening. With his left hand, Kratos launched a swift backhand to the bandit's face, flinging him halfway across the area.

Kratos looked back to the rest of the group, finding that another bandit had found his courage and was rushing towards him, a broadsword in both hands. Kratos got Flamberge in line to intercept the awkward horizontal swing when a hot, piercing needle entered his consciousness.

Unbidden memories suddenly swarmed his mind:

_The bandits on the road…._

_Martel with her lifeblood pouring away from her…._

_No….Revenge……No…..KILL THEM!_

As suddenly as they had come, the memories flew away, like a flimsy spirits on a carrying wind. Kratos looked down. The bandit he had been facing lie on the floor, his head half lopped off, a steaming second mouth. With horror, he stared at Flamberge's blade. Black, burned pieces of flesh and blood fell from it, cauterized by the sword's power of flame.

His eyes still wide with shock, Kratos looked at the three remaining bandits. The three stood completely still, mortified. The small one still had his hand over the red mark on his cheek

"Damn," Kratos whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. Those looks reminded him of Yuan's face when Martel had been killed. Kratos had meant to bang up the bandits, then tie them up, and leave them near a town for the local authorities to find. But, he couldn't now, not after what he had put them through.

"Take him and leave," Kratos said to the bandits, his voice cracking. No movement was forthcoming. "Go!" Kratos screamed. Spurred into action, the bandits picked up their dead companion and ran off into the trees.

Kratos fell to the ground, staring at Flamberge. This sword was not pure anymore. He had done evil with it. Not willingly, but he still had done it. Kratos suddenly stood up, aiming to throw the sword away into the woods. But he hesitated, and with a sharp, grim bark of laughter, he sheathed Flamberge and sat down again.

The sword may not be pure, but it was still purer than him.

Slowly, Kratos began to wonder what had happened. Even more slowly, he began to understand. Fighting the bandits had triggered something in his mind, making him relive Martel's death.

"I must discipline myself so this doesn't happen again!" Kratos suddenly declared. He stood up, thinking to start right then. But he fell again to the floor. Not now, he had not the heart for it now.

"I'm sorry Martel, I'm so sorry," Kratos whispered, tears dropping to his hands. The tears soon formed a small pool in his hands. With the sun swiftly setting, the tear pool took on a black color, as black as midnight. With the orange-golden light around him, his surroundings were on fire. Midnight flame.

It began to rain.

---This story is the property of Nightshade Woe. Please pm me if you want to use it for something---


	3. Chapter 3: Through the Night

Chapter 3: Through the Night

Kratos sat by the stream in rain for hours, thinking over the past events. Was he right? Was he wrong? Thoughts flew like fluorescent rockets around his mind.

_"You are evil,"_ His conscious said, "_You killed that man, even though he never would kill you. You robbed him of life. You are just as bad as those bandits that killed Martel. You…evil….kill….evil….Martel…..ev-_

"Stop!" Kratos screamed. Panting with rage, he looked around wildly. "The rain. There's only the rain," Kratos breathed. He calmed. The rain acted as a gentle sedative to him. The endless rhythm was beautiful. He loved the rain. It soothed him, talked to him, reassured him, and protected him. He felt as if Mother Nature herself was trying to comfort him. "It's ok, I didn't kill him on purpose," Kratos reasoned, "my mind acted independently from my will. I will train to correct this problem."

Kratos blinked. The problem was solved. Kratos' mind was at peace again. He shivered. He may love the rain, but it sure was cold and wet. Kratos preferred to sleep out in the open, but not in the rain. Picking himself off the ground, he willed his wings to him, took off, and flew just above the trees to look for a place to stay.

Kratos had searched for about half an hour before he found a small town surrounded by water. The actual buildings were actually on islands scattered around the small lake, with wooden bridges spanning the distance between the islands.

Kratos touched down in a grove of trees about fifty yards from a particularly wide bridge that he presumed to be the entrance. He willed away his wings, and walked out of the small grove and towards the bridge. When he could see it through the rain, a large arch stood above the entrance to the rain. A metal plaque read: Luin: The City of Water. Kratos noticed that the word Luin was very close to a word in angelic that meant to be reborn. "Hmm," Kratos laughed to himself, "I wonder if that's a sign." Could he find such rebirth?

Kratos walked across the bridge, his shoulders hunched up against the wind that had just sprang up. When he reached the first and largest island, he looked up and saw a large, two storied building made of wood, complimented by a red-shingled roof. Above a plain wooden door swung a telltale sign of an inn. The building showed some sign of wear, but all in all seemed like a good, clean place.

Making up his mind, Kratos rushed to the building, slowly opened the door, entered quietly, and then closed the door softly behind him. Kratos hoped he had not caused too much disturbance, for he knew the hour was late. Behind the counter, a somewhat plump woman dozed, her soft snores blowing a paper on the counter back and forth.

Smiling, Kratos walked up to the counter and softly patted the woman on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, Miss." Kratos said.

With a sharp snort, the woman bolted up, and then looked around groggily. Seeing Kratos, soaked by the rain, she suddenly got up and walked to a corner with a huge pile of towels and blankets.

"Oh you poor dear," the woman said, grabbing a towel, "I always seem to get to get travelers who get caught up in some sort of foul weather." The woman walked up to Kratos, and then flung the large towel over him like a shawl. The woman offered a hand for Kratos to shake, and he obliged. "My name's Chauntel," the woman called while heading back behind the counter, "But my friends call me Chaun." Chauntel winked at him and added: "You can call me Chaun."

Kratos grabbed the towel and rubbed his hair dry. He looked to his clothes next, but they were already dry thanks to the specially made Cruxis material.

"Is it a room your after, hun?" Chaun asked, looking through a small box of keys.

"Yes ma'am," Kratos respectively answered.

Chaun looked up, a surprised look on her face. "Ma'am?" she looked upwards thoughtfully, "hmm, ma'am. I like that." Smiling, Chaun rummaged through the key box again. "Aha!" she finally exclaimed, holding up a key connected to a piece of wood stamped with the number five. "Room five, dear. That's the big room upstairs, sleep well," Chaun finished.

"Thank you Chaun," Kratos said. He turned to the stairs, then, remembering something, he spun around. "How much do I owe you?" he asked, reaching into a small gald pouch he always carried with him.

Chaun waved at him dismissively. "Oh don't worry about that right now dear. I can see you're tired, so we'll discuss payment in the morning."

Kratos nodded and turned around. He headed up the stairs, unlocked his room, and entered. The room was quite large. It had a comfortable looking four-poster bed opposite a huge stone fireplace. Locking the door behind him, he walked across the room and found a log pile on one side of the fireplace. He quickly stocked the fireplace with logs and, whispering the angelic spell for fire, he soon had a hearty blaze going. Lying down on the bed, he used an ancient breathing technique to calm down: Breathe out 1-2-3, Breathe in 1-2-3. Helped by the relaxing breathing, he soon closed his eyes and welcomed his subliminal resting place into his mind.

Kratos arose and went out to see the sunrise. The blazing colors of yellow, red, and the smallest hint of purple left him in wonder. After the sun had cleared the horizon, Kratos went back inside and grabbed his key. With a simple, muttered incantation, he put out the small fire left over from last night, and then left the room and locked the door behind him. He headed down the stairs, renewed.

He entered the lobby to find Chaun looking through a tremendous pile of papers behind her desk. Kratos blinked. Where had those come from?

"Good morning, Chaun," Kratos called while walking up to the counter.

"Well good morning m'boy," Chaun replied, turning around, "Ah, you look much better with a good night's rest behind you."

Nodding, Kratos asked, "Now, how much do I owe you?"

"Hmm. The room is 200 gald, the continental breakfast is free, and you have taken advantage of the special 'Friends of Chaun discount," Chaun winked at him, "So, your payment comes out to a special price of 150 gald." Kratos nodded and handed over the correct sum. Chaun reached under the table and took out a steaming loaf of bread and an apple gel flask. Kratos took the food respectively, knowing he wasn't going to eat it. It was part of being an "angel."

"Where are you heading now dear?" Chaun asked as he turned for the door.

Kratos turned around, "I don't really know," he replied slowly.

"Hm, a wanderer. Well take care of yourself," Chaun said, "Oh, and keep that food, you'll need it later. That comes from experience dear, something that I've had much more of than you." Smiling, for he knew the truth, Kratos stepped out into the day. It was a sunny day, with large clouds sometimes blocking the sun, giving you needed shade. Taking Chaun's advice, he put the whole loaf of bread along with the apple gel into his magical gald pouch. The pouch had been made and given to him by Martel as a birthday present. It could hold as many things as you wanted, but you never felt the weight.

Remembering something Mithos said, something about a human ranch near here, steered his course. He headed into the forest, lazily headed toward his destination. He was at peace for the first time in a very long time.

---This story is the property of Nightshade Woe. Please PM me if you want to use it for something.---


	4. Chapter 4: The Girl

Chapter 4: The Girl

Kratos strolled through the forest, his hands behind his head. He smiled as a pair of birds scuffled lightly in the air, gracefully hopping from branch to branch. The sunlight sparkling through the trees created a mottled pattern upon his chest.

Absently, he thought about his destination. He knew he was heading towards something Mithos had called a human ranch, but he also knew he wasn't in a hurry. "Hmm," Kratos thought out loud, "what could a human ranch be?" Mithos had never gone into much detail on the subject. He knew that exspheres were made there, but that still left the mystery of the title. Reasoning that he would find out soon enough, he shrugged and let the matter be.

His thoughts again turned to the flashback that had caused him to kill the bandit. He remembered the hot piercing intrusion, the painful memories, and most of all; he remembered the bandit's faces. Shaking his head, Kratos whispered, "I must not let that happen again." He found a shady spot near the base of an ancient oak and sat down. Settling down, Kratos crossed his legs into what he knew as the lotus position, and began reciting an ancient incantation in angelic.

Long ago, while running an errand for Mithos, Kratos had saved a young man of Mizuho from a wyvern, which apparently had reached the end of its rope. The man was trapped, his back against a huge, sandstone cliff. Kratos had leaped off the cliff, landing deftly on the back of the wyvern, who was rearing back to release a torrent of lightning breath that would have fried the young man. The surprise weight of Kratos slamming into its back brought the roaring wyvern to the ground. With a flourish, Kratos had grabbed on of the spines along the wyvern's back and launched himself into the air, pulled off a quick flip, and plunged Flamberge deep into the wyvern's head when he hit the ground.

The man had thanked him and invited him to his home village of Mizuho. Kratos had obliged. When they arrived and explained what had happened, Kratos had been received with thanks, gifts, and a huge feast. The young man apparently was the son of the chief of the village.

Kratos formed a lifelong friendship with the man, whose name was Kubayashi. Well, the friendship was lifelong in the terms of Kubayashi's relatively short life.

During those sixty odd years however, Kubayashi taught Kratos many things, including the method of disciplining the mind that Kratos was performing. The method was called meditation. Meditation had improved Kratos' fighting skills, and calmed his mind in times of crisis. For that, Kratos was thankful.

Kratos' eyes popped open. He was finished. His mind felt clear, refreshed, and more importantly, pure. His mind was not so clouded with the sour stench of doubting thoughts. Kratos smiled. "Thanks Kubi," he whispered.

Then he heard it. A soft rustling in a large bush across the clearing. Cautiously, Kratos slowly stood up, drew Flamberge, and began to warily approach the bush. Kratos could see that the bush was quivering in short spasms every few seconds. Suddenly, faster than an eye could see, a flash of green and white slammed into him. In a split second, Kratos was pinned to the ground, with Flamberge just out of reach, by six hundred pounds of Noishe.

"Noishe!" Kratos exclaimed, "get off of me, you great wad of fur!" If Noishe understood, or even heard, he gave no indication of it, offering only a wet lick to Kratos' face. He had met Noishe on his journeys with Yuan, Mithos, and Martel. The animal had followed the group around wherever it went. Kratos had always enjoyed Noishe's company, but when Mithos created Derris Kharlan, he had completely forgotten about his beloved pet.

When Kratos finally managed to heave Noishe off himself, he got up, washed his face in a nearby brook, retrieved Flamberge, and set out again, an old, if somewhat furry friend in dogged pursuit.

Kratos knew something wasn't right. About five minutes ago, he had begun to hear screams. Terror filled, horrid screams of desperation. Then came the sound of whips cracking, sometimes it was a loud crack in the air, other times, the crack ended with a muted, fleshy sound. Kratos knew the relentless whips were pounding into the backs of humans. "Damn you, Mithos," he whispered. He hadn't thought that Mithos had sunk to this level yet.

Kratos was crouched behind a large boulder about five feet from the solid, grey wall of the ranch, Noishe silently lying behind him. Kratos peeked around the boulder one last time. The wall was made of a gray metal that he couldn't identify. Black posts that extended a few feet above the twenty-foot high walls interrupted the gray metal periodically. Buzzing above the gray wall between the posts was a purple electric current. To touch that, Kratos knew, was to die.

It was late afternoon by now, the golden sun sinking rather than rising. "Noishe, stay," Kratos whispered, "I'm going to fly up and get a better look. Noishe laid his head on the floor and whined softly in agreement. Willing his wings to him, he sped, barely two feet off the ground, in the opposite direction of the ranch. When he was sure he was far enough away not to be seen, he pulled up sharply and headed back to the ranch, heading slightly upward the whole way..

Kratos flew to a spot between the ranch and the sun, so if anyone looked his way, they would be blinded by the fiery orb. Accessing his cruxis crystal, Kratos uttered an angelic spell for eyesight. With his improved vision, he scanned the complex as if he was two feet from the tiny figures on the ground.

One large, L shaped building took up the southeast corner of the large complex. Judging by the heavy security around both the building's doors, Kratos determined that the large building served as a center of operations, and perhaps housed the leader's quarters. Another rectangular building took the northwest corner, and extended south about halfway along the east wall. Kratos determined that this was the barracks.

A large, open space took up the rest of the space inside the wall. On the west side of this space, figures in plain, brown clothing pushed huge metal blocks through the western gate, across the space between the buildings, and out an eastern gate. On the other side of the wall, other humans pushed the blocks around back to the western gate, carefully watched by a solid line of guards sporting the signature half-face helms of Desians. "Damn you Mithos," Kratos whispered again. The humans who pushed the blocks eastward in the first place cycled back, and got another block. The process then began all over again.

Kratos understood the process easily enough. "But, what's the point?" he wondered aloud. Then it hit him like a hard punch to the face. Kratos knew that exspheres react to your battle instincts, and gave you power. He gasped, clutching at the cruxis crystal affixed to his chest. He understood. The continuous strain, the relentless whippings, all heightened the stress of the humans, essentially adding power to the exspheres Kratos could now see attached to the hands of the prisoners. Exspheres were made from people. Kratos stared coldly at the establishment, knowing what he must do. He must destroy the whole thing.

Suddenly, those thoughts fled his mind like a speck of dust in a whirlwind.

Kratos had never found himself a romantic, even though many girls over the years had squealed at the sight of him. But this was different. A young woman on the east side of the open space had just passed her block outside of the wall. Understandably tired, she bent over, panting, her long brownish gold hair tumbling about her neck. Her brown, sweat-drenched dress draped close to her body, revealing a graceful and curvaceous form. Kratos quickly averted his eyes, blushing deeply. His heart pace quickened, and he found he was slowly sinking. Quickly snapping up to his original place, he scanned the complex, and quickly located the young woman again. Now surrounded by three desians, the woman still had her back to Kratos. He hastily muttered a spell in angelic to improve his hearing.

"-re you needing a break missy? The desian in front of the young woman asked, his eyes hardly directed at her face.

"Yes please! I glass of water would be great!" the young woman answered, looking over to a shady spot near the wall.

"Oh, not that kind of break, dear," a desian behind her lewdly remarked.

"Huh?" the young woman asked, turning around, her face scrunched up in confusion.

The desian who hadn't spoke turned to the one who just had. "I don't know if you could be calling it break," the desian smiled lustily at the woman, "it might be more tiring than the actual work."

The woman got the picture. With a high-pitched squeal, she tried to flee between two of the desians. The desians grabbed the young woman's delicate shoulders as she ran between them and dragged her between the two of them to the east gate, led by the third.

"No! No! Help me, please! Oh Spiritua! Help me!" the young woman screamed to her fellow prisoners. They watched without moving a muscle, without any emotion at all. Thanks to the nonstop work and beatings, the only things these empty human shells thought of was their daily ration of bread.

A final cry of "No!" shattered Kratos' heart for the fourth time.

His eyes narrowed.

The desian trailed his hand across the human woman's smooth face. "I think your going to like this, young lady," he whispered in her ear. The woman, fervently whispering a prayer to Spiritua, didn't answer. The desian roughly grabbed her face and forced it up. "Wench! Look at me when I talk to you!" the desian growled, his face barely an inch from hers. Smirking, he stepped back, to undo his belt, then looked up to make sure his two companions were still holding the woman against the tree.

They weren't.

Suddenly, a blur of white, blue and red flashed before his eyes, the colors of death.

Kratos leaped to the ground with catlike quickness. Upon landing, he smashed a part of the desians face in with a wicked jab with Flamberge's guard. With his left hand, Kratos then grabbed the desian by the neck and pushed him up against the tree. The desian's legs began flailing with the realization that he couldn't breath.

"Damn you, you bastard," Kratos growled, "damn you to hell." He quickly twisted his hand, cracking the desian's neck. As the body slumped to the ground, Kratos turned to the young woman, who had ran for cover just after he had killed the first two desians with a whispered spell. Kratos stood in awe. Before him stood the most beautiful woman Kratos had ever imagined, much less seen. Her face was smooth, her body voluptuous and shapely, and her eyes shone with that lust for life that he had lost so long ago.

The young woman managed a small smile and a nod before suddenly bursting into racking sobs. She ran toward Kratos and embraced him, still weeping bitterly. Kratos hesitated for a moment, then embraced her in return, wanting this moment to last forever.

---This story is the property of Nightshade Woe. Please PM me if you want to use it for something.---


	5. Chapter 5: Lovely Company

Chapter 5: Lovely Company

Smiling, Kratos watched as the young woman wolfed down the loaf of bread he had offered her. The young woman had cried for close to half an hour when she had suddenly stopped, wiped her eyes, and then simply asked for food. Like most of the other women Kratos had known during his lifetime, she just had had to cry it out. Kratos had gladly given her the loaf of bread, silently thanking and blessing Chaun's strangely accurate advice.

Pausing between voracious bites, the woman took a dainty sip of the apple gel Kratos had also given her. Curious about her peculiar way of eating, Kratos subconsciously cocked his head to the side.

Noticing him, the young woman suddenly stopped eating, crumbs still falling from her face. "Whash ish itsh?" she asked, crumbs flying from her mouth. Blushing bright red, she quickly closed her mouth and swallowed the chunk of bread she had been chewing. "Sorry," the young woman said, wiping her face with the sleeve of her dirty, brown dress, "what were you staring at me for?"

Kratos didn't reply, didn't say anything. He just continued to stare at this beautiful creature, thinking:_ You're the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen. What other reason could there be?_

The woman now had her head cocked curiously to the side. "What was that?" she asked. Sitting himself up straight, Kratos mentally slapped himself for thinking out loud, then thanked the heavens that he had only muttered.

"Oh nothing," Kratos said, trying to hide the embarrassment in his voice, "I was just wondering why you ate like that." Kratos sighed with relief. He had finished a sentence.

"Ate like what?" she asked, self-consciously bringing a hand up to her mouth.

"Oh, just how you really," Kratos stammered, searching for the right word, "er, like the bread, and you only sip the apple gel."

"Oh," the young woman said, smiling, "It's just, when I was growing up, apple gel was precious. It was the only medicine we could afford. I guess I did it without meaning to." She looked down, her golden brown hair shifting in front of her stunning eyes. "Sorry if it bothered you," she said softly, her voice very small. Behind her hair, Kratos noticed that her cheeks were colored a light red in a blush.

That, the simple process of blood rushing to her face, gave Kratos more happiness than anything ever could.

Her embarrassment bolstering his confidence, Kratos inched across the soft clover bed they were sharing, moving a little closer to the woman. "May I ask you your name?" Kratos softly asked, his voice calling her, urging her out of her embarrassment.

. The woman looked up, a sly smile playing on her lips. "First tell me your name," she said, "and then, perhaps I shall tell you mine." Her visage suddenly turned serious.

Confused by her sudden forwardness, Kratos sat stunned, not blinking for a second, then managed to blurt out "M-my name is K-k-kr, My n-name is Krr-" He was cut off when the young woman's face suddenly lit up into a playful smile. He looked down, breathed a sigh of relief, then raised his eyes to the woman again. "My name is Kratos," he finished.

The young woman looked down, a shy smile on her face. "Mine's Anna." Anna, her features somehow enhanced by the now bright moonlight, slowly began moving toward him, inch by inch, her sparkling eyes never leaving his.

When she was close enough, Anna reached down, softly clasped his hand, and cupped it between her delicate, yet strong, hands. "Kratos, I- I want to thank you. You can never understand what you did for me. In there, the ranch I mean, it was like hell," Anna looked down, her voice cracking, "We only got about a piece of bread a day. O-on some days w-we would get soup, but it was p-pretty much only warm water. Th-they made us do s-sensless work. Every third day, I h-had to pour barrels of water into an ever-emptying tank." Anna, fully crying now at the harsh memories, pulled herself up against Kratos' chest. "Then, when those desians took me to the forest, I- I wanted to die. I would've done anything not to l-live through th-that."

Anna then stood up, pulling Kratos along with her. Looking up at Kratos' face, she had tears in her eyes, but a smile on her lips. Gently she whispered "But then I didn't have to do anything, for an angel suddenly appeared, and gave me the greatest gift possible, my freedom."

Still holding his hand, Anna looked up and uttered a simple "So thank you."

Too dazed to say anything else, he quickly muttered a "You're welcome."

Smiling that small smile of hers, the smile that always made Kratos' heart skip a beat, Anna slowly let go of his hand and went to grab the bread and the gel. Kratos gulped when she bent over to get it, then quickly put on a calm face when she stood up. Anna turned around, wanting to offer Kratos some of the food.

But suddenly, Kratos wasn't there anymore.

Anna looked around wildly, wondering what had happened. About five feet away, Kratos lay on the floor, his legs flailing, trapped underneath what looked to be a very large dog with very long ears.

"Curse you, you immense beast!" Kratos shouted, his arms trying, and failing, to lift Noishe off of him. Suddenly, Anna's face filled his view, a teasing smirk on her lips.

"And just who is this?" she asked, her voice perfectly complimenting her grin.

"This," Kratos replied, again trying to shove Noishe away, "is the most irritating creature on the face of Sylvarant." A soggy lick was Noishe's retort. With a sigh, Kratos gave up, his hands dropping onto his chest. "Anna, this is Noishe. Noishe, Anna."

Anna scratched Noishe's head and neck, receiving a small whine in thanks. "It's very nice to meet you, Noishe." In response, Noishe rolled over onto his back, inviting more petting. "Oh, aren't you the cutest thing!" Anna squealed, dropping into a crouch. She began rubbing Noishe's stomach, muttering things in a strange, almost babyish voice.

Kratos, shaking his head, sat up and watched the routine he had witnessed almost every time Noishe met someone new.

Piercing shouts shattered the relative silence.

"-ook over there! She may have snuck away when they were finished with her!" a shout coming from the direction of the ranch proclaimed.

"She's probably heading for the ocean!" another yelled.

Know how close they were the eastern gate, the gate that led to the ocean, Kratos swiftly stood up, grabbing Anna's hand on the way. "Come, we must leave this place," he whispered.

With surprising strength, Kratos gently picked Anna up by the shoulders and placed her on Noishe's now arched back. "Run Noishe," he breathed, "run as fast as you can." He did. And Kratos ran beside him, just as fast. Low on Noishe's back, Anna wondered how Kratos managed it.

As they ran, the shouts began to fade. But they did not slow, for Kratos knew that he wanted nothing more than to protect this woman, Anna. They ran at a fast sprint for an hour, Kratos every so often looking over his shoulder, searching for pursuit. They hurtled through the trees at a breakneck pace right up until they reached the door to Chaun's place. Opening the door with less care this time, Kratos, Anna and Noishe rushed inside, greeting a very surprised Chaun.

"Sorry for the ruckus Chaun, do you allow pets?" Kratos asked, motioning at Noishe, who whined.

"Well, not normally, but for one this cute, I guess I could make an exception." Chaun replied, winking. Kratos blinked. Was she looking at Noishe or him? Shaking his head, Kratos turned, grabbed Anna's hand, and tenderly helped her off Noishe.

A wily smile on her features, Chaun asked, "And who is this pretty young lady?"

"This is, er, Melissa, I found her in the woods, she was lost." Kratos lied, not wanting to take any chances. Anna looked up at Kratos questioningly, but didn't speak. "She needs new clothes and a bath, can you manage that?" Kratos asked, reaching for his gald pouch.

"Of course I can manage that!" Chaun exclaimed, "what kind of hostess do you think I am?" Smiling, she motioned for Anna to come. "The baths are through here darling, and I think some of my daughter's clothes would fit you." Her eyes sparkling with anticipation at the gifts she was about to receive, Anna ran to Chaun and took her hand. Offering one last wink at Kratos, Chaun led Anna through a door.

Kratos shook his head, something he thought he was doing way too much lately.

Sitting in one of the lobby chairs, thinking, Kratos absently scratched Noishe's head. The desians would spend the whole night looking up and down the coast for Anna, so he knew they had some time. But after that, Kratos suspected, they would get smart. They would look in the surrounding cities.

Looking to a gigantic map newly pinned up on a wall, Kratos cursed when he realized that Luin was closest to the infernal ranch. They would search here first. Mentally, he started plotting a course away from the ranch, and carefully avoiding any other ranches along the way.

Chaun entered the room, wiping her hands on a small towel. "That's a pretty lass you've picked up, …." Chaun paused, looked at Kratos in surprise, then clapped her hand to her forehead, "by Spiritua! I don't know your name!

Kratos thought about telling her his real name, but decided against it. Mentioning his actual name would endanger Anna, and he would not let that happen. He did not doubt Chaun's loyalty, but with enough torture, anyone would break and spill their guts to the torturer. And with Cruxis' harsh methods, that breaking point usually came rather fast.

"Ryan, my name is Ryan," Kratos answered, finally deciding on a name. Nodding, Chaun bent down and brought out a chessboard. Smiling, Kratos remembered how he had always played Yuan in chess, and had always won. Those winning streaks usually sent Yuan into a fit of furious ranting. Chaun began setting up the pieces.

Anna stepped through the door a short while later, wearing a thin, light green dress. Kratos didn't move. He had his eyes on the game he was already badly losing.

"My, oh my," Chaun exclaimed, a smug look on her face, "don't you look pretty in that dress!" Kratos looked over, his expression quickly changing from exasperated to awe-filled. Anna looked down, her hands clasped in front of her, and a small blush on her face. She walked over to the board and looked it over, her hand quickly going to her mouth, trying unsuccessfully to cover a snicker.

"Thank you," Kratos said sarcastically, then turned back to the game.

Following Kratos' suit of not giving up any information, she softly asked him, "Excuse me, but could we get a room now? I'm a bit tired."

Silently blessing the intelligence of this woman, then turned to her and replied, "Of course we can." He turned to Chaun. "Could we have two rooms Chaun?" Chaun, smirking, began to look through the key box.

"No…" Anna said half-heartedly. Kratos looked to her in surprise.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"Well," she began, embarrassed "I feel, er, safer with you. So, could we just have one room?" She looked down, then tilted her head upwards again. "Besides, I don't want you to waste money on my account."

A huge grin on his face, Kratos turned to Chaun. "Just one room then," he said.

Kratos led the way up the stairs to room five. He opened the door for Anna, then entered himself and shut the door. It took him a little longer than usual to start a fire because he had to use a flint and stone in Anna's presence.

He could not reveal what he was to her. Not yet.

When he finally had a good blaze going, Kratos turned to Anna, who was lying on the four-poster, "Anna, I need to tell- well, ask you something," he said, walking up to the bed.

"What is it Kratos?" she said, sitting up.

"The desians we escaped from will come looking for you. Hopefully, they'll give up after a while, but they will chase you for a ways." Kratos began. Anna sat quietly, digesting the news. "So, I was wondering, er, if I could- if you would allow me to protect you until they give up," Kratos sighed at his stumbling speech.

Anna looked down, and whispered, "Yes, of course." Kratos nodded.

"Thank you," he said earnestly, "then tomorrow, we get up before the dawn. Anna nodded in return, and lay back down.

As he lay down on his floor mat, Anna called from the bed, "Sorry about the one room. Ever since they took me from here, I have been afraid of the dark. In the ranch, you never knew what would happen in the morning, whether you would live or die. It was eight hours of horrid waiting."

Kratos sat up. "Here? You mean you come from Luin? Why didn't Chaun know you?" he asked.

Anna smiled, "Well, I was born in Luin, but I didn't live in Luin proper. I lived in a house about half a mile from here." She replied, "Anyways, sorry again."

With an uttered "No problem," Kratos lied back down and began his breathing technique to relax.

Later, Kratos slowly became aware something in front of him. Opening his eyes, he was surprised to find a slumbering Anna lying next to him. Her body fit against his, like two matching spoons on their sides pressed together. Hearing a light huffing behind him, Kratos turned to find Noishe had claimed the bed. Surrounded as such, Kratos felt at peace, reasoning that the desians wouldn't follow far. To them, she was just another human.

Kvar, the leader of the Luin ranch, sat in his heavily cushioned chair, elbows propped up on the rests, his fingers creating a forever-shifting triangle in front of his smooth elfin face.

She had gone. His beloved Angelus Project had gone missing. His only hope of obtaining leadership of the Five Grand Cardinals, had just disappeared. Kvar's eyes became angry, his finely tapered eyebrows coming together in a sharp V. No matter what the cost, he would find that exsphere.

He would never give up.

---This story is the property of Nightshade Woe. Please PM me if you want to use it for something.---


	6. Chapter 6: The First Step

Chapter 6: The First Step

It was still dark when Anna sleepily opened her eyes. "It's time Anna," Kratos said, tapping her shoulder gently. She blinked. Not wanting to seem like a soft traveler, Anna quickly got up, rubbing her eyes.

The moon shone softly near the horizon, bathing everything in a gentle blue. Surprisingly, the soft light threw everything into a sharp, shock relief, etching shadows and miniscule details. The fire still crackled quietly in the fireplace, popping every so often. Kratos gently took the sluggish Anna by the shoulder, guided her out the door, then softly shut and locked it behind him.

Going lightly, but quickly down the stairs, they came out into the dark lobby. Kratos peered into the gloom. With his cruxis crystal enhanced vision, Kratos saw that the lobby had been changed. The large map that had been on the wall was gone, the chairs had been rearranged, and a large pile of envelopes covered a corner. Chaun was nowhere to be seen. The pair walked up to the counter. Laid out on it, almost strategically, was an assortment of supplies.

Closest to them was a white envelope. It was sealed in red wax and marked with the name Ryan in large, looping script. "Who's Ryan?" Anna whispered.

"The name I gave to Chaun," Kratos shortly answered. He opened the envelope softly, then unfolded the parchment inside. The short letter was written in the same flowing script as on the outside. Silently, he began to read, Anna leaned over his shoulder and did the same:

Dear Ryan & Melissa,

I knew you would be leaving early, so I put together a few things for you. You two don't seem like seasoned travelers. Here's a list so you can make sure you have what you need.

5 Miracle Gels

3 Traveling outfits for Melissa

A bow and quiver of arrows for Melissa. (Sorry if it's not quite up to par with your fine weapon Ryan, it was the best they had at the shop.) Got to protect your pretty lady, eh?

A copy of "Recipes for the Road"

2 Loafs of bread

A map of Sylvarant

A pack for everything

I hope that that's enough. Good luck.

Chaun

Smiling, Kratos put the letter gently back down onto the counter. Scanning the counter, he began to go through the supplies in a businesslike manner. He checked the miracle gels first. They were in plain wooden flasks, with Gels Inc. stamped onto the bottoms. The inside was stained the correct blue of miracle gel. He quickly put all five of them into his pouch.

"How did you do that? Anna asked, her voice filled with wonder.

"Do what?" Kratos asked as he stuffed the bread and recipe book into his pouch.

"That!" Anna said, louder. Kratos turned around to find her pointing to his pouch. "It doesn't get any bigger!"

"Ah," Kratos patted the small pouch, "magic" Kratos answered, winking.

Kratos turned back to his work, leaving a still-confused Anna to his back. He examined the traveling clothes next. They consisted of dark, form fitting leggings that were complimented by light, overly long jerkins. Each outfit had a silk ribbon of a different color to secure the jerkin. Kratos blinked in surprise, these were very fine garments, yet the material felt strong.

"Pick one," Kratos said, motioning to Anna, "then go change in that closet over there." Anna took only a moment to pick the green with a black ribbon, then walked to the closet, shutting the door behind her.

Kratos put the rest of the clothes into his pouch. Looking back to the counter, he picked up the map, then stopped. This looked like the map that was on the wall last night! Kratos hurriedly flipped the map over, then, shaking his head, he slowly put it in his small bag. It had the same smudge on Thoda Island as the big map had had last night. What was Chaun up to?

Kratos looked to the only item left of the counter aside from the unneeded pack, the bow and quiver of arrows. Both pieces curved gracefully in nature's form. The quiver's leather was dyed a light chestnut, with an extremely detailed, silver outlining of a wolf gracing the center of it. The top and bottom of the quiver were plated with silver filigrees, twirling and looping about. Protruding out of the top were about sixty white-fletched arrows.

Kratos picked up the matching bow and pulled it experimentally. It went back smoothly, with no jolts or unexpected sounds. He nodded, it would do. Hearing Anna coming out of the closet, he turned around.

The traveling clothes fit perfectly. The long jerkin complimented her graceful form almost like a second skin, while the ribbon was tied in a small bow on her hip.

"You look….er, g-great," Kratos stammered, embarrassed.

Anna looked down, a blush on her face.

Kratos helped Anna strap her quiver and bow on her back, showing her all the buckles and correct belt loops. After they were finished, they quietly opened the door, closed it behind them, and stepped out onto the road. They walked northwest through Luin, the houses quiet. Drapes belonging to open doors fluttered weakly in the light breeze. The streets were empty except for a few stray cats fleeting down alleyways.

"Would you like to see your family before we leave Luin?" Kratos asked, placing his hand tentatively on Anna's shoulder.

Anna's steps faltered, then continued. Kratos looked at her, bending his head forward to look past her hair, which had tumbled in front of her face. He just caught a glimpse of a sparkling tear slowly descending down her delicate features before jerking his head back, humiliated.

"No, it's ok," Anna said, seeing Kratos' uncomfortable expression, "my family, my sister and my parents, were killed by desians a few years ago." Her voice began to break, her head swirling with the unpleasant memories now brought to the forefront of her mind. "It was late evening, papa was cutting wood out back, so mum could start the stew. My sister had just turned five, so mama had put special spices in the soup." Anna was fully weeping now, but still she walked on her own. "Papa started screaming, telling us to hide. They came in through the windows and put us down on our knees. Mama was too old, and Leyla was too young, so they…killed them."

Anna's strength then gave out, and she fell sideways into Kratos' arms, sobbing bitterly. "Right in front of me! They killed them! They made me watch!" Anna howled. Kratos picked her up, his right arm cradling her shoulders, his left supporting her legs from behind her kneecaps.

"Shh. It's alright. I'm here," Kratos cooed, trying to relax the now flailing Anna. He held her close, comforting her, but he never stopped walking. Soon, she stopped flailing, her face buried in Kratos' clothes. Kratos closed his eyes. Damn. He could never imagine what that could be like. He marveled at her strength.

Thanks to Kratos' soothing words, Anna was soon asleep, exhausted by her outburst. Her tear-streaked face seemed so calm now. Her chest raised and lowered lightly, a small snore escaped her lips. She stayed in this relative position until they reached the end of town, Kratos still carrying her.

Making sure Anna really was asleep; Kratos unfurled his wings and took off, heading for Hima.

Chaun stood up from the counter, her features screwed up in a contorted smile. She turned and hobbled, seemingly drunk with glee, through an open door. She tottered down the simple wooden stairs into a dimly lighted room with a stone floor. Plain wooden shelves, lined up next to each other with rows in between, almost like laboratory tables. Sitting on these shelves, were objects of all kinds, from bottles to smooth river stones, common household items to rare pieces. Chaun shuffled across the front of the room, then turned down one of the rows that led to the back.

When Chaun reached the end of the row, she was gasping. "Damn body. How did this old crone get around?" she muttered, turning her head to a pile of hay in the left corner. The large mass of hay covered about half of the small back area.

Sprawled out on the mound was Chaun. Three red gashes ran across her throat, the blood still spilling out onto the hay. Killia had been afraid that Kratos would find the blood trail, the old woman bled so much. Similar, but smaller marks covered her arms, legs, and chest.

The Chaun that was standing up spread her legs apart, drew a black circle in the air with her forefingers. The circle sparkled with marble-like glossiness. The imp muttered incoherently, and her image began to shimmer. She got shorter, her arms longer, and her figure more petite.

When the transformation was complete, a purple imp stood in Chaun's place. The imp had a devilish smirk on her face, screwing up her features into a gruesome appearance. Small yellow and curling horns protruded from her forehead, complimented by fierce red eyes.

"Heeheehee!" the imp shouted, jumping in the air, "Killia did good, yes she did!" Killia had broken in to the basement through a window just before Kratos and Anna woke up. She had snuck into Chaun's room while crawling on the ceiling. The crone had woken up at the last moment of her life, but that was ok, Killia liked it that way. After her grisly deed, she had intended to set up a transportation circle. But, hearing Kratos and Anna coming down the stairs, she had just had time to place a tracing beacon onto the quiver.

After they pair had left, Killia had crouched behind the counter for a long time, calling upon her harsh training to breath silently.

"Heehee, now back to Pronyma to report!" she whispered, excited. With inhuman strength and agility, Killia jumped through the window high on the wall, her long, spindly arms trailing out behind her. She landed in a dusty side alley, then leaped the twenty feet to the roof of the tall inn. She then leaped to the bridge, then ran off into the forest, muttering to herself.

Anna woke up to find herself lying on a soft bed. Sitting up, she looked around the room. The walls were made of wood, with small cloth tapestries hanging on them. A small fire crackled in a stone fireplace opposite of a large window. Judging by the light streaming into the room, Anna guessed it was late afternoon.

Still in her traveling clothes, she stepped off the bed. She saw her bow and quiver lying on the only chair in the room, picked it up and strapped it on, just like Kratos had showed her. She smiled, the whole "lesson" was a repeat, but she went along with it. Anna loved it when Kratos was that close to her. She exited the room, lightly padded down the stairs, then headed for the door when she reached the bottom.

"Hold up there young missy!" a voice called.

Anna turned around to see an extremely old woman with thick glasses, seated behind the counter on a too-big stool. "Hmm, what is it?" she asked.

"Your handsome friend said he would be on top of the mountain. The path is behind this here inn. Maybe you should go see him!" the elderly woman cackled, rocking back and forth on her stool.

"Thanks," Anna said, and pushed out the door. "What an odd old lady!" Anna whispered softly. Stepping out onto a narrow porch, she noticed she was on a cliff. The whole town, or inn, was on this one cliff, a mountain towering behind it. The stone was a light brown, but went dark in some places. Two small children ran past, giggling.

"Wai fo me, Petwo!" a girl gasped, trailing behind her friend.

"Cach me if ou can, Sarh!" the boy yelled back.

Smiling and shaking her head, Anna walked around the back, then began the trudge up the rock ramp. When she came to the first landing, she stopped. About eight gravestones were scattered around the back of the clearing, each with a single white rose propped up against it. Out of respect, Anna knelt down and recited a traditional prayer to the dead: "Oh Spiritua, guide these souls to your heavenly domain." Finished, she turned and eyed the next steep ramp with distaste, shrugged, and started up.

She arrived at the top panting. Why did Hima residents have to be adventurous? When she stood up straight, she heard feet scuffling across dirt and rock. Suddenly, wanting to see Kratos before he saw her, she dashed behind a boulder, then slowly peered over the edge.

Kratos had Flamberge out and in a ready position. He twirled it blindingly fast to his side, then launched into a quick three-slash routine. After a downward slice, he waited for a second, crouching on the ground, then spun around and stood up in the same movement. He slashed diagonally from both directions, a move that would have carved an X into the air, deftly turned around again, then threw out several wicked pokes that were too fast for the human eye to count.

Kratos dived forward into a roll, aiming for a large rock. He came out of the roll with a swift horizontal strike. After a moment, the top half of the rock tumbled off its base.

Kratos, hearing someone clapping behind him, quickly whirled around, his hair flying in front of his face. There stood Anna, her striking silhouette flapping in the gentle wind.

Kratos placed his hand behind his head, embarrassed. "O-oh A-anna! I didn't see you there!"

When Anna got close enough to him, he saw she was smiling. Her hand went to her chin, and she looked up. "I wonder if I should practice with my bow?"

"I already thought of that," Kratos said, turning Anna around. Propped up in front of a huge jutting rock formation, was a hay bale with a sloppy red target painted on it. "Kratos blushed, "Sorry about the paintjob, I'm not very good at drawing."

Anna smiled and removed the bow from its holster. "Ok," Kratos began, "Spread your legs about…." Anna completely ignored him. Taking a perfect stance, she removed an arrow from her quiver, spun it to her side, rested it on her bow, and fired, a process taking about three seconds.

The quivering shaft buzzed right into the center of the target.

Kratos was shocked. He stood, stunned, mouth hanging open, as Anna fired again and again into the heart of the bail. After about fifteen arrows, Anna stopped and leaned on her bow. "Ha! Don't look so surprised!" Anna laughed, seeing Kratos' shocked visage, "who do you suppose hunted for my family? I did. I've been shooting since I was three!"

Kratos laughed, still surprised.

After Kratos had recovered from his shock, he and Anna had returned to the inn. The old innkeeper had talked to Anna and Kratos about a pet baby wyvern she had had as a child. Since the story didn't seem to be going anywhere, Kratos had suggested dinner. Quick as a wink, the old lady had pulled a steaming wyvern steak out of the oven.

The innkeeper ate more than both Kratos and Anna combined.

Kratos softly opened the door to the quarters then closed it when Anna had entered, smiling and exasperated smile. It had taken them almost fifteen minutes to shake of the old woman and her open ended stories. Kratos turned around and walked across the room and lit the fire using the flint and stone on his first try. He was getting the hang of it! But he hated this process. Every time, it reminded him he had to reveal himself to Anna sooner or later. She would probably hate him.

Subdued by his dark realization, he stood up and turned around.

Anna cocked her head to the side, "Why the long face?" she asked. Not receiving an answer, she continued, "I have something that will cheer you up! You can sleep in the bed tonight!"

Kratos smiled. "No, I wouldn't want to rob you of comfort," he said.

Anna blushed. "Oh come on! I got the bed last time!"

Kratos finally agreed after five minutes of arguing, shaking his head.

Kratos awoke in the middle of the night again to find Anna's body pressed up against his. So that whole argument had been for nothing. Kratos smiled. He loved the nighttime.

Pronyma walked slowly back and forth in her personal quarters. Her high heels clacked against the hard, white tile rhythmically. She had just dismissed Killia after a particularly good report. She smirked. Kvar was a fool. Using her information system, she had made Kvar dance right into her hands. With the push of a button, she could now instantly find the location of that traitor Kratos and his wench.

This was going better than she had thought.

---This story is the property of Nightshade Woe. Please PM me if you want to use it for something.---


	7. Chapter 7: Revalations

Chapter 7: Revelations

"Anna," Kratos softly said, tapping on her shoulder, "it's time to get up." Anna sat up slowly, blinking. Turning and walking to the door, Krato said over his shoulder, "Breakfast is ready downstairs, meet me outside when you're ready." With that, Kratos opened the door and exited the room.

Standing up, Anna looked around. It was before dawn, the moon low in the sky. Looking to the bed, she saw that her traveling clothes were laid out on it. Choosing the blue outfit with the pink ribbon, she undressed and dressed quickly.

Stepping out of the room, she headed down the small hallway and down the stairs to the lobby. The old innkeeper sat in her stool, snoring loudly, her head resting on the shelf behind her that was riddled with old books.

Shaking her head, Anna walked into the separate dining room. In the dim light, the various paintings in the wood room seemed to gain new depth. A cabinet full of china was set up against the south wall while an exquisite wood dining furniture set sat in the middle of the room on a simple fur rug. Anna found a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage on the table. Sitting down on one of the carved chairs, she delicately tried some of the eggs to find them delicious.

Anna quickly finished her meal, exited the dining room, and headed outside. Looking around in the soft, dawn lighting, Anna spotted Kratos talking to a sleepy-looking salesman. Kratos turned his head to her, then his head cocked to the side in curiosity. "Where's your bow?" he mouthed.

Anna's hand went to her mouth in surprise, telling Kratos the answer. Shaking his head, he turned back to the salesman while Anna dashed inside for her forgotten equipment.

"So, I'll take this short sword. How much?" Kratos said for the third time. He received no answer. Looking under the salesman's hair at his bowed face, Kratos discovered that the salesman had fallen asleep again. Frustrated, Kratos reached out and shook the man's shoulder. The man snapped his head up, his eyes wide. "How much for the sword?" Kratos said again, forcefully.

"Um, um… for this?" the salesman said, pointing at the sword, "This is…200 gald." Kratos blinked. That was a very low price for the sword, which was very well made and included a belt and a sheath. Gladly paying the sum, Kratos thanked the man and walked to the area in front of the inn.

Anna burst out of the door a few minutes later, her bow strapped to her back and her face blushed. In her arms were her clothes from yesterday. "Sorry about that," she gasped, breathing hard.

Smiling, Kratos took the clothes and put them in his pouch. Holding out the sword he had bought, he said, "Here, I bought this for you."

Anna cocked her head. "For me? But why? I already have my bow…" she said, indicating her quiver with her thumb.

Kratos' visage suddenly turned serious. "Maybe. But what if, by some odd chance, you miss?" Kratos said, stepping closer to Anna all the time, "the enemy might be able to rush you before you get another arrow drawn. A wooden bow does not hold up well against a steel sword," Kratos face was inches away from Anna's, " You could get hurt. I can't let that happen." He looked into her eyes, her beautiful, dreamy blue eyes that sparkled with gold specks. Anna bowed her head, a small blush permeating her features.

Embarrassed, Kratos stepped back. "Here, let me help you with this," he said. Kneeling down in front of her, he delicately strapped the belt around her waist. He then attached the sword to the brass rings on the belt. Stepping back, Kratos checked his work, then looked away, embarrassed. The way the belt rested diagonally on Anna's round hips made him blush.

"What?" Anna asked, looking down.

"N-nothing," Kratos answered, "l-lets get going." Taking her hand, he led her to the top of the ramp leading down to the ground proper. Suddenly he stopped. He was holding Anna's hand! Quickly letting go, Kratos spun around. "S-sorry about that," he said, uncomfortable, "I-I just- just…" Kratos looked down.

"No!" Anna said, lifting his chin up. Suddenly embarrassed, she stepped back, blushing.

"It's okay," she finally said.

Kratos looked up, curious. "Really? It's okay for m- Auggg!"

Lying on the ground, small, sharp stones digging into his back, Kratos groaned and opened his eyes. Noishe's face blotted out the sun, then licked Kratos' face. Groaning, Kratos lie there, not even trying to get Noishe off him. "Damn! And I thought we had lost him!" he moaned. "Anna! Please help me!" Looking over to the inn, Kratos saw two children staring at him, their eyes wide. Suddenly realizing his foul language, Kratos covered his mouth, his eyes wide. "Sorry!" he called. The two children giggled and ran off to the inn. The sun was now peaking over the horizon.

Kratos looked back to Noishe to find, Anna hugging the beast, murmuring again in her strange, baby-like voice.

Kratos sighed. This could be a long trip.

The figure sat in the shadows, his back against a tree. A black mass of what looked like hair sat atop his head. The orange glow of a cigarette flared up every once in a while, revealing sharp, hard features. "Go on, speak," the figure said in a gruff voice. In front of the figure stood a desian who, on closer inspection, was sweating.

"Y-yes sir, General Trigen" the desian stammered. "Our scouts used a long distance scope and determined that the targets have left Hima and are heading west."

"Okay," Trigen said, taking his cigarette out of his mouth, "get the unit up and moving, we'll stay under the trees as much as we can. We should be five miles from here a-,"

"Sir, don't you think we should call backup? I mean, one of the targets is an angel after all. The-,"

The figure's hand shot out. There was a "shunk" sound, and what sounded like water spilling. The other desian officers peered through the gloom of the forest, trying to see what had happened. "Don't interrupt me," came Trigen's rough, now cold voice. A match's flame came into existence. The officers gasped.

Instead of a hand, Trigen's muscled arm ended in a wide blade, attached seemingly directly to the skin. On his arm proper, there were silver pipes and pieces of metal sticking out of his skin in various places.

But it wasn't the arm that made the officers gasp. They had seen that before. Trigen was covered in blood. His arm-blade had plunged through the desian's neck, leaving only an inch of flesh on both sides. The blade had skewered the tree behind the officer, pinning him to it. The surrounding area was splattered with blood.

With a smooth movement, Trigen drew back his arm-blade. He pointed at another desian with it as the body slumped to the ground. "You. You're a captain right?" he said. The desian stepped back suddenly, then quickly nodded.

"Good. You're promoted to Major. Congratulations," Trigen said, pulling out another cigarette. "Now get the unit up and moving to follow the targets," he said.

Nodding, the officer saluted and turned around. Suddenly he felt the sharp end of cold metal against the back of his neck. "I'm not finished. Tell the scouts to advance and attack when the chance comes," Trigen hissed.

"P-p-permission to leave sir?" the desian stammered, obviously frightened out of his wits.

"Granted," Trigen muttered. He watched in disgust as the coward scurried away.

Some of these troops just weren't up to par. They kept getting weaker and weaker. Taking a cloth out from his pack, he began cleaning himself up. Sighing, Trigen regretted his officer choices.

He might have to kill this one too.

The desian swung through the boughs of the forest expertly with the other six members of his group. They moved amazingly fast spinning, jumping, and flipping through the branches at a breakneck pace. A passerby would have only seen blurs.

They were a special scouting unit trained in dexterity and speed since their childhood. Part of a new program set up by the desians. They called it the search for the perfect soldier. "Well," thought the leader, "I'm the closest to perfect that they're going to get." Smirking, he continued his journey through the trees, to battle.

Trigen marched behind his force, his tan trench coat flung over his shoulders concealing his arm-blade. He marched with his head down, a smoking cigarette in his mouth. His green cargo pants were tucked into his heavy black boots.

He looked up and examined his force. As of now, the regiment had sixty able fighters. Trigen smirked, that was more than enough to take care of one man and his whore. Based on the reports, the girl reminded Trigen of a family cottage he had raided a few years back. His troops had killed the father outside then killed two females inside who weren't the right ages.

The only human who had matched the criteria was a young woman of about sixteen. Trigen licked his lips. God, even at that age she was ripe. He would have bedded the wench, but his career as Kvar's general was at a tentative stage. Therefore, he had forbidden such actions for his troops and for himself. The file photo Trigen had in his pocket told him that the girl was the girl from that raid, if a bit older. He smiled, his mood brightening.

If the scouts failed, this could be fun.

The leader of the special scouting unit had spread his six troops around the medium sized clearing, creating a six-pointed star of death. After traveling for five hours to the clearing, the group had arrived at the clearing about ten minutes ago, and were now examining the place. Judging by the moon, it was nine o'clock at night.

The leader laughed silently at the target's stupidity. He had created a huge fire, a beacon for prospective enemies. The camp was messy, and two human sized lumps layed near the fire. On the south side of the clearing lie a cliff and a small rock formation, nothing to worry about; he already had visuals of his targets.

Pursing his lips, he gave a nighthawk call, the signal to attack. Simultaneously, six black shapes flipped into the clearing, and began silently walking towards the fire in the center of it. Nothing changed, nothing stirred. They advanced to about five feet from the lumps. Signaling a halt, the leader stepped forward and reached out a hand, aiming to pull the brown blanket off the bigger lump.

Suddenly, an arrow buzzed into his face, causing a small explosion of blood.

As their leader fell to the floor, screaming, the others looked around, trying to find where their attacker was. Suddenly, a howling, very large dog leaped from a tree. Like a green and white bullet, Noishe slammed into one of the desians, bearing him to the ground. Noishe clamped onto the desians neck and squeezed, slowly choking him while his large canines dug into his trachea.

Another arrow pierced a desian through the neck, and the others drew their swords, still looking around.

One of the lumps near the fire suddenly exploded into action. Kratos, Flamberge already drawn, leaped up behind a desian. With a quick, one-handed slash, Kratos took the head from the desian's shoulders.

Shouting, the other desians turned and faced Kratos, their angular scimitars gleaming in the firelight. Quickly, the desian on the left launched a downward, diagonal slash from the left, while other desian struck from the exact opposite direction: upward from the right.

Flamberge weaved left then right, successfully deflecting both attacks. Kratos rolled to the side, then lurched forward with a surprising, low horizontal slice, which was barely blocked by one of the desians.

Kratos moved Flamberge from side to side, up and down, blocking attack after attack. He set himself into a comfortable rhythm, and waited for them to make a mistake.

Finally, it came.

The desians launched identical horizontal strikes. His face showing no emotion, Kratos spun to his right, holding Flamberge out vertically in front of him. His spin ended with Flamberge blocking both attacks.

Kratos snapped out a kick with his left leg, connecting with a desian's face, and flinging him into the fire. As the desian screamed and flailed with pain, Kratos repelled some attacks from the remaining enemy.

Desperate, the desian swung his sword horizontally at Kratos' head, the last attack the desian would ever make. Kratos ducked under it and grabbed the desian's shoulder, using the hold as leverage as he thrust Flamberge into his stomach. Face to face with the angel of death, the desian died.

It had taken about fifteen minutes to completely clean up the camp to dissuade any trackers. They had dragged the bodies into the trees outside of the clearing. After sending Anna to clean up the strategically place items, Kratos had quickly buried the six bodies with magic.

Kratos had expected the desians to arrive. He had first noticed they were being followed at about two in the afternoon. Putting Anna on Noishe, they had sprinted down their path to gain some ground. Since they had lost their pursuers for a time. Kratos had rigged the camp and made a plan. Even now, he marveled at the ease of victory on a prepared battleground.

The group of three now sat by the edge of the clearing, close to each other. Anna was excited and was talking a lot, while Kratos sat on a stump and said nothing, his head looking down.

"You're amazing Kratos!" Anna exclaimed, looking over at him.

Kratos said nothing, then stood up. "Anna, we are in great danger. In order to remove that threat, I must use something, something that will reveal something about me that you don't know," Kratos said, obviously forcing the words out, "Once you find out, you may hate me… but please at least allow me an explanation once we are out of danger."

Shocked and little confused, Anna nodded. Suddenly, Kratos lifted her into his arms. "Noishe," he said to the animal, whose maw was still red with blood, "follow us." Suddenly, a blue glow surrounded Kratos, his lips moving silently. With a bright blue flash, sapphire wings of light erupted from Kratos' back, feathers falling toward the floor. Anna gasped. Leaning close to her, Kratos whispered, "Know that you're the only thing that keeps me going."

With that, Kratos rose into the air and sped off to the south, towards safety for his precious cargo, his precious Anna.

---This story is the property of Nightshade Woe. Please PM me if you want to use it for something.---


	8. Chapter 8: Obstacles

Chapter 8: Obstacles

Kratos had no idea how long he flew. It must have been hours. But time held no meaning for him. He had one goal, and that was to get Anna to safety. He flew above the clouds most of time to stay out of sight, but occasionally dipped down below to verify his path. His constant flying was quickly depleting his mana stores, but if he noticed, he gave no indication. There was only the wind in his face, the drive to complete his goal, and the warm body pressed up against his.

Anna had gotten over the initial shock of flying relatively fast, nestling into a comfortable position in Kratos' arms once she got used to the new sensation. She slept now, her face half buried into Kratos' muscled chest, breathing softly. Looking down at her, Kratos smiled, not believing how beautiful she looked when she was asleep.

Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion overtook him. His concentration had broken. He lurched, and with alarming speed, he began speeding closer to the ground. Desperate, Kratos wildly looked about. He was flying south along the coast, the ocean just a few feet to his left. With his superior vision, Kratos spotted a small village maybe 500 yards to his south.

He was about five feet from the ground now, so with the last of his mana, he slowed himself to a stop. His wings disappeared, and he turned in the air to protect Anna, as he hit the ground and skidded a short distance.

After the dust had settled, Kratos looked to Anna. She was unhurt, and still sleeping. Kratos smirked and chuckled. "Anna," Kratos called gently. Anna moaned softly and curled harder tighter against Kratos' chest. "Anna!" Kratos yelled, his strength fast depleting. There was only a few moments before he passed out.

"Whaa?" Anna muttered, her head jolting up, her sleepy eyes fixed on Kratos grimacing face. "Kratos!" she shouted as she finally understood what she was looking at, "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"No, my energy just ran out. Listen closely to me, Anna." Anna leaned in closer, her ear close to Kratos' mouth. He gulped at her nearness, then pointed to the south. "There is a village to the south, when I pass out, take me there," Kratos whispered, his voice getting softer, "Check if it's alright, then ask for help. There's money in my pouch if you need it. Get a…" Kratos' head lolled to the side, his eyes closing.

"Kratos!" Anna screamed. She grabbed his head and shook it, trying to bring him back to consciousness. Kratos did not stir in the least. Frantically, Anna stood up and looked to the south where Kratos had indicated, there was a faint yellow light glowing from behind the trees. "That must be the village he was talking about!" she said, her voice hoarse with worry. Not wanting to waste any time, Anna bent down and pulled upward with a groan, trying to lift Kratos up. He rose a few inches, then fell back down to the earth as Anna's strength ran out.

Breathing hard, Anna looked around. The moon shown with a bright light, casing a cool blue light of everything, highlighting the tops of objects, and throwing the bottoms into the darkness of shadow. Thinking quickly, she picked Kratos' shoulders off the ground, dragged him to a tree, and propped him up against it. Bending down, she pulled Kratos forward over onto her back, like she did with bucks while hunting. Shakily, she stood up, and began to trudge towards the light. She ran straight towards her goal, barely trying to dodge bushes and trees. Once or twice she stumbled backwards, ending up smashing Kratos' back against a tree. Grimacing, she continued on, branches scratching her face and catching on her clothes. When she finally broke through the trees, there was a stretch of short scrubby grass. The grass continued to her left until it turned to sand, the beach. Waves crashed against the sand. Anna could see the glow of the village and the silhouettes of several buildings.

Worried about Kratos and motivated by the sight of the actual village, Anna picked up the pace. As she came closer, the village became clearer and clearer. It was small, made of wood cabins, and had a modest network of docks extending out onto the ocean.

As she finally was close to the village, she began shouting: "Help! Help! I have someone who's hurt! Help!" She finally came up on the main road, slowly lowered a limp Kratos to the ground and screamed one last "HELP!" People began to come out of their houses, shouting.

Suddenly exhausted, Anna sunk to the ground, shaking in relief.

Yuan stood still, eyeing the two black-winged angel circling him. He held his large double-bladed sword in front of him like a staff, one of its ends digging into the thin training pads on the floor.

Both of the angels in the training hall with him looked exactly alike. The same white tunic, the same fiery red hair, the same pale faces, and the same emotionless expressions. They were simple infantry, each wielding a long sword in each hand.

The one on his left rushed. Yuan struck right with the flat of his weapon, the other blade against his back for leverage. The strike passed between the angel's two blades, the flat of Yuan's weapon slamming into his chest, causing the angel to fly, crashing into the wall.

Yuan heard the padding of feet, and without turning towards the other foe, stabbed backwards with the other blade. Feeling it slide through flesh, he quickly turned around. He had gouged a deep gash in the angel's side. Suddenly, blood violently gushed from the wound, splattering on the ground. The angel's expression did not change in the least.

Yuan gasped, then returned to a calm demeanor. "That's enough for today," he said. He pointed to the wounded soldier. "Get yourself to the infirmary." The other angel came to stand shoulder to shoulder with the other. Both bowed, "Yes Lord Yuan," they said simultaneously in their monotonous voices. The both exited the large training hall, the wounded angel's injury periodically erupting with blood.

Shaking his head, Yuan willed his large weapon into his specially made wing pack ring before turning around and heading for a different exit. As soon as he stepped out into the hall, he leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. He was loosing his edge. He hadn't meant to hurt that soldier. He had thought to stick his blade to the side of him, them force the soldier away with the flat of it. He'd messed up.

He slowly straightened himself, and started towards his chambers. If he was fighting someone he cared for, they could die! He was slacking off. Walking by a patrol, he turned a corner. Although he didn't notice, trying to run the Renegades and play his role in Cruxis was taking its toll.

After fifteen minutes of walking, Yuan finally reaching his door. He reached up to the keypad on the wall next to his door to put in the six-letter code into his room. Smiling as his fingers trailed over the familiar keys, he softly pressed the correct password. M-A-R-T-E-L. Hitting the access button, his silver door slid to the side with a soft metallic hiss. He stepped into his room, beginning to unbuckle his red and black tunic. He closed the door, removed his tunic, and threw it unceremoniously to the floor. With a tired sigh, he walked to his bed, sat on it, and began to remove the rest of his clothing.

He removed his soft boots, unlaced his vambraces and greaves, then finally took off his simple gray shirt. In his gray leggings, he walked to the shower and started the hot water. Requesting his preferred temperature to the computer, he removed his leggings and stepped into the shower. He sighed as the warm water soothed his aching muscles. Unlike the other members of Cruxis, he was powerful enough to withhold his cruxis crystal. He could still feel. He removed the small strip of cloth that gathered his long hair into a ponytail and wet his hair.

As he washed his hair and body, he thought. The shower was his favorite place to think. The steady sound of the water drowned out the irritating sound of the outside world, and solitude was guaranteed. The intercom beeped. Yuan groaned, solitude was almost guaranteed. He reached up and pressed the button next to the speaker. "What the hell do you want?" he growled.

"Ah… I a-apologize Lord Yuan, but L-Lord Yggdrasill wishes to see you," the messenger stammered, taken back by Yuan's ferocity.

"Fine," Yuan conceded and ended the transmission. He stopped the water and dried himself off, eyeing the in-shower speaker with hatred. He would have to destroy it when he got back. He put on his clothes, then combed his now messy hair into his regular style and tied it back into a ponytail.

Exiting his room, he started towards Mithos' chambers. He navigated the living quarters passing various inhabitants of Welgaia along the way. Exiting the living quarters, he crossed the large floating platform and came to the guard standing stiffly on the Derris Emblem.

"Identification, please," the guard said in an almost robotic tone. Yuan rolled his eyes. He was one the Four Seraphim for goodness sakes! Grudgingly, Yuan reached into his tunic and pulled out his polycarbonate I.D. card and passed it to the guard.

The guard nodded and gave the card back to Yuan, then stepped aside to let him pass. Briskly walking up the small steps, he entered the portal and closed his eyes as he felt himself being transported to Mithos' castle: Vinheim.

Yuan cursed under his breath as he trudged up one of the seemingly endless staircases of the elaborate castle. "Could Mithos make this any harder?" he muttered. Tired of it all, he closed his eyes and winced as a pair of violet-blue wings surged from his back in a blinding light. He took off and began to fly up through the middle of the spiral staircase.

He hated using his wings. They reminded him too much of the woman he loved. Martel. They were symbols of how Cruxis was desecrating Martel's memory by committing evil acts to try to bring her back to life. "Soon Martel, soon. I will stop your brother," he promised under his breath. When he reached the top platform, he floated over the rails and lightly touched down on the landing, then willed his wings away. Walking forward, he pushed open the double doors into Mithos' bedroom.

As Yuan walked in the room, he noticed Mithos in his young form, sitting on one of his stuffed couches, his legs crossed, looking at Yuan with an innocent expression. But still, his eyes expected obedience, instantaneous and unquestioning obedience. Walking over to the couch opposite Mithos, Yuan sat down.

"Hello Yuan," Mithos said in the voice that seemed to disturb Yuan whenever he heard it.

Yuan shivered. "Hello Mithos," he replied coldly.

"Well… how are you? Mithos said after an uncomfortable silence. Things had always been awkward between them since he started courting Martel all those years ago. Their relationship had only worsened when Martel was killed. Yuan wanted to get out of that room as soon as possible.

Yuan lowered his eyes, his mouth drawn into a tight line. "What did you need me for Mithos?" he asked tersely.

Mithos sighed. "Straight to business, eh? Well, I called you in to ask you about Kratos." Mithos said, studying Yuan's face for his reaction.

"Kratos?" Yuan's head rose in interest at the mention of his friend. "What about Kratos?"

"Well, ever since I invited him to my chambers to… talk, I haven't seen him. I went to his rooms yesterday, and they were empty." Mithos explained, his hand lazily waving in the air, a habit. "Also, at Kvar's ranch, a host body was stolen. I was thinking the two events could be linked."

Yuan looked down again, thinking. What was Kratos doing? Why hadn't Kratos told him anything about it? Granted that participating in Cruxis and running the Renegades was taking up a majority of his time, but he was Kratos' friend of 4,000 years!

"Do you know anything about it?" Mithos inquired, seeking information. Yuan didn't answer, still engrossed in his thoughts. Mithos leaned back, satisfied that Yuan was still in the dark. "Well that's fine. Maybe you can use your esteemed information network to find him." Mithos said slyly.

Yuan gasped softly, his eyes wide, his head still down. The Renegades! How did Mithos know about that? He swiftly stood up, wanting out of the room before he gave himself away. "I must… leave," Yuan uttered before fleeing the room, slamming the double doors behind him.

Mithos smirked; he would have to watch that one more closely.

When Kratos slowly opened his eyes, he found himself on a soft bed. A warm body, Anna, lie next to him, snoring softly. He smiled, his eyes closing in prayer. She had made it. Again, she had shown her tremendous inner strength and got him to the town and to help.

Opening his eyes, Kratos looked around the room. That walls and ceiling were made of a light-colored wood, with a single door leading out of the room made of a slightly darker wood with a brass knob. Bright moonlight streamed through a small window and Kratos thought he could hear the gentle murmur of the ocean outside.

Suddenly, anguish gripped him as he remembered his situation. He snuggled closer to Anna, burying his face in her hair, taking in her wonderful scent. He lay there, pressed against his first and only love, dreading the sun, dreading the morning.

Dreading losing Anna.

Trigen bent down and picked up some dirt with the fingers of his good hand. Raising them to his nose, he sniffed it, searching for any clues. Tossing the dirt away in disgust, he stood up frustrated, his face the very visage of rage. "Dammit!" he screamed. He lashed out at a passing desian with his arm-blade. It dug heavily into the man's back, slicing his spine and causing blood to gush from the wound. The man screamed and fell to the floor.

Trigen sighed and headed for the edge of the clearing, thinking.

They had come to the large clearing about two hours ago. Trigen had dispersed his forces throughout the area to search for clues. At first the site had been ripe with them. His group of expert trackers had quickly determined that a battle had been fought in the area. The area had been cleansed with magic, so all it had taken was a quick spell from one of his mages.

From the tracks, his trackers had determined some small details about the fight, and had found tracks of both the targets and some strange imprints that resembled dog paws. They had also found the seven bodies of the scouts buried close by. But after that, the pool of clues had dried up. There were no tracks leading away from the site. No footsteps, no scratches on the trees, no marks whatsoever.

Taking out another cigarette from the back pocket of his tan trench coat, he lit it and placed it in his mouth, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. He looked up, looking at the stars. They were bright tonight, as well as the moon. Trigen gasped quietly as something caught his eye. It was a set of marks on a tree branch that looked like two sets of four slashes in the bark, revealing the lighter wood inside. They were spaced like an animal's claws.

Trigen started. An animal's claws! Trigen smiled. He had found what he was looking for.

---This story is the property of Nightshade Woe. Please PM me or post on this topic if you want to use it for something.---


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